Page 19 of The Reaping Rose

It does. I think of the gate that surrounds the village for our protection. How much of what I was raised to believe was the Crown’s assistance was a lie? How much was it them simply pulling the strings?

“Do you have any idea where the rings might have ended up?”

Callum shakes his head. “If they were taken by the Guard, then I assume they’re somewhere in the Guard’s old quarters on the island, but I haven’t seen anything like them in my century here, so I’ll have to search. Something that important…”

“They would have hidden well,” I guess.

“Yes, they would have.”

“But if you find them, and if you can open a Gate, everyone can leave. Not just us, but the humans too?”

“That’s my hope.” Callum’s smile is tight.

I reach for his hand, and even with Fae blood in my veins, his is warmer. “If I’m not back in a week, and you’ve found the rings and figured out how to open the Gate, you need to take the villagers through so they’ll be safe. You need to leave me.”

“No. I can send them through with Greer. I’ll wait⁠—”

“Callum.” I squeeze tighter. “All of you need to go. We don’t know how long the magic in the sword will hold, much less Alyssium itself. You need to leave me here if I’m not back. Malachi is still out there, vying to be a god. And Hazel… You’re the only one whose magic stopped her. Greer will need you.”

He pulls his hand away at the mention of Hazel. It’s the one thing he refuses to talk about since the Rite of Blood ceremony. Nothing escapes her shadows. Her touch is sure death, but Callum survived. I don’t know how it’s possible, but he might be our only chance against her and her brother.

“Callum.” I sigh. “You and Greer will need each other for what’s to come. If I don’t walk out of the prison within the week, leave me.”

“Elorie—”

“Promise me.”

His shoulders tense, but he finds no wavering in my gaze. “I promise.”

“Good,” I say, standing. “Now enough talk of death and war. Let’s drink.”

“To the end of the realm?” Callum hitches an eyebrow.

“That, or the beginning.”

Chapter 7

Elorie

The remnants of last night’s storm scatter the trail that leads to the prison. Debris is large enough to climb at certain points. Trees lie on their sides.

Alyssium has never been a beautiful place. Compared to the lush foliage in the Ley Court and the rich pine forests of Tempest, Alyssium is gray and dying. Broken from the constant wave of storms and decaying from the inside out.

My gaze lifts to the break in the trees, where the prison gates sit left open at the top of the hill. Dirt the color of soot remains at the base of the iron posts where the morning glories used to grow. When the flowers died, they didn’t wither. They crumbled to ash like the final embers cooling on a snuffed-out fire.

I brush my fingertips over the handles of my daggers as I stare ahead. Two on each thigh. One on my hip. They won’t do me any good against what looms in the prison before me, but I count them over and over, convincing myself I can do this regardless.

“What do you think your mother will be like?” Letia asks as Greer and Callum trudge ahead of us.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I don’t even know why they locked her in this place.”

“Do you think she did something terrible?”

“If you asked me a few turns of the moon ago, I might have said yes. But now…”

Looking at Callum walking ahead of me, I think of what he told me about his father killing his mother. How the Crown forgave him because he was important to their cause. Then, I think of Wilder, locked inside those walls for protecting his people.

There are always two sides, Wilder said to me.